


Close To Home

by Spacecadet72



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: F/M, PTA Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23453122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: PTA money goes missing, and the rest of the PTA board thinks that Marta is responsible. Benoit must find the truth and clear her name.
Relationships: Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Close To Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Day 1 of Cablanca Week: Mysteries. 
> 
> This all came to be so that I could write the last scene. :D But I had a good time writing the rest of it too.

Benoit pulled into a spot outside the elementary school and turned to address the back seat, where his two oldest children were buckled in.

"We have arrived," he said, with a smile at first his oldest, Sofia, and then Albert.

"Daddy," Albert asked, once he was out of the car and both he and his sister were holding Benoit's hands, "why is that lady staring at us?"

Benoit turned to look in the way his son was pointing to see a woman around Marta's age, with long blonde hair, curled in perfect ringlets. She was one of the women on the PTA board with Marta. She was absolutely staring at them, although she turned her gaze when she caught him looking. One might have actually called her staring a glare if they were so inclined.

"I'm not sure, sweetheart," he said, although he knew not everyone viewed his family in a positive light. "That does not mean we need to point at people," he said, his tone gently chiding.

Albert nodded, but continued to look at the woman.

"She thinks you're too old, Dad," Sofia said, and at nine, her tone held a matter of fact note to it. "And she said something about Mom liking gold. I didn't understand that part, but I don't think it was nice."

 _No, it was not,_ Benoit thought with a sigh. The woman, who was the mother of one of Sofia's classmates, was not the first to say these kinds of comments. He didn't appreciate that she had said them in earshot of his daughter though.

"Sometimes people don't say very nice things," Benoit said, wishing he didn't have to share this lesson with them, they were too young to learn about how awful the world was. "But you know that Mom and I love each other and you three and that's the important part."

Sofia and Albert nodded, before they each let go of his hands, now that they were at the fence opening that led to the playground to run off to their friends. Benoit continued around the fenced in playground towards the office to sign in. Both he and Marta took turns volunteering in their children's classrooms, while the other stayed at home with their youngest, Daphne, who at ten months, was too young for school.

He greeted the women who worked in the office with a smile as he signed the clipboard. Their family was well known at the school and not everyone was judgmental about how old Benoit was compared to Marta. Even if it made him an older father, he wouldn't trade what he had with his family for anything. And he certainly wasn't going to hide when his children's classrooms needed volunteers. They were too important.

As he walked to Sofia’s classroom, he noticed a large poster advertising auditions for the spring musical, and smiled. Sofia had taken to performing like she was born to it, and he couldn’t be prouder. She had gotten a lead role in last year’s musical, and loved it, even though there had been some drama around who had gotten the part and who hadn’t. It had all blown over quickly, though.

He continued walking down the hall, humming to himself.

* * *

"She called me a gold digger?" Marta asked her tone filled with humor, later that day as Benoit passed on what Sofia had told him. Marta had Daphne perched on her hip, and she was happily talking to herself. "Is that right, sweetheart?" Marta asked as Daphne made a nonsensical comment.

He nodded. "If that term could be applied to either of us, it would be me," he said with a chuckle.

Marta rolled her eyes. "Neither of us are gold diggers," she said as they finished putting lunch together. "She’s always making comments during PTA meetings."

"Does she even realize you're the one with the money?" Benoit asked, as he followed Marta to the table, a plate of sandwiches in hand.

Marta shook her head. "I don't think so. I think she saw the two of us together and made assumptions."

He frowned, thinking about just what kind of assumptions could be made about his family. They weren't true, but some people still believed them.

"Well," Marta said brightly, a wide smile on her face, as she put Daphne in a high chair "I don't want to dwell on what she said. We're happy and that's what matters."

Benoit nodded and leaned forward to kiss her softly. "I love you," he said as he sat back in his chair.

"I love you too," Marta said fondly, before turning to Daphne, "And I love you, darling."

Benoit watched his wife and daughter interact and was once again struck by how lucky he was. Not everyone may agree with their life, but he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

* * *

"Alright, I'm heading out," Marta said that Saturday, leaning down to kiss Benoit quickly before moving to the children playing on the carpet next to him and kissing each of their foreheads in turn. "I'll be back in a couple of hours, depending on how long this takes."

"Have fun, darling," he said with a wave as she walked out of the room. He turned his attention back to his children. "What should we do after this?" he asked, sensing that the kids were about done with this activity.

“Build a fort!” Albert shouted, as he drove his car directly into Benoit’s.

“A fort?” Benoit asked, looking at Sofia. “What do you think?”

Sofia nodded. “That sounds fun, we could play a game inside.”

“It’s decided then,” he said, turning to look at Daphne. “Do you want to build a fort, sweetheart?”

She smiled at him, and he smiled back, before he turned back to the other children. “Alright, let’s build a fort.”

A couple of hours later, Benoit's phone rang. Now inside a blanket fort, a board game set up in front of them, he answered, his smile wide when he saw it was Marta. "Are you done?"

He sat up straighter, his game piece falling out of his grasp to hit the board with a thunk as he heard the waver in her voice when she said his name. "What is it? What's wrong?"

“Last night’s fundraiser money is missing. I called the board and the police and they’re all on their way,” she said, and he couldn’t stand the stress and worry in her voice.

"Hold on, I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, moving out of the fort and murmuring at the children to get their shoes and coats on.

"What's going on, Dad?" Sofia asked, her eyes wide.

"I'll tell you in a minute," he said, before turning his attention back to Marta.

“We’ll find out what happened to the money,” he said, picking up Daphne and following Sofia and Albert into the foyer. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

"What's happening?" Albert asked, sounding scared once Benoit had hung up.

Benoit shook his head. "I'm not sure yet, but I need to go help your mom with something. I'm going to call your Abuela and see if she can watch you for a bit."

While they were clearly still worried, both Sofia and Albert lit up at the mention of Elena, Marta's mother, who they both adored. A day at Abuela’s might be even better than a blanket fort with Dad.

Once the phone call and arrangements had been made, he bundled everyone in the car and they were off. He dropped them off at Marta's mom's house as quickly as he could before heading towards the school. It was a good school, he just wished it was closer. Soon enough, although it was later than he would have liked, he was pulling into the school parking lot and running for the school doors.

He entered the main lobby to find the members of the board as well as two police officers and the principal.

"Mr. Blanc," the principal, Michelle Larson said, reaching her hand out to shake his. "Marta said you were coming. We're not sure what's happened."

"What's happened is that your wife stole our money."

Benoit turned to see the woman from this morning, Brittany Cooper, the PTA Vice President. Her features were twisted in hatred and she pointed an accusatory finger at him. He glanced over at where Marta was speaking to the two police officers, but she didn't seem to have heard Mrs. Cooper's accusation.

He regarded her coolly. "Do you have proof?"

Mrs. Cooper scowled. "Not yet, but when I heard that the money was missing, I knew she had to be the one behind it. It'll only be a matter of time before the police figure out how."

"Why would she tell everyone the money was missing if she took it? Is she the only one with access to the safe where the money was being kept?" He asked, as he slid his hands into his pockets. As much as he hated the reason, it felt natural to slip into this kind of questioning, and he didn't fear confrontation.

"We all had access, but she called us to throw us off. It had to be her.”

"If everyone had access, then, they're all suspects, aren't they?" he asked, with a confused smile. "And her name is Marta."

Mrs. Cooper scowled again and looked ready to argue.

He held out a hand. "If you'll excuse me, I'd like to see how Marta is doing," he said before turning and walking across the room. When he reached her, he slid his hand to the small of her back and waited until the police officer talking to her had finished speaking.

"How are you doing?" he asked, leaning in close.

"I'm okay," she said with a shaky smile. "Benoit, this is Officer Perez and Officer Hatcher. She turned to the police officers. "Officers, this is my husband, Benoit Blanc."

"We've heard of you, sir. You and your wife," said Officer Perez with a grim smile and Benoit was reminded slightly of Trooper Wagner. While he and Marta hadn't worked with these officers, they had worked several times with the police department and had a good working relationship with several of the local officers and detectives. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

"Is anyone charged with anything?" Benoit asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it said aloud.

Officer Hatcher shook her head. "We don't have any leads as of yet, and no proof that could lead to arrest. We've asked our questions, so you both are free to go."

Benoit turned to Marta. "Ready?"

She looked up at him, her exhaustion evident in her eyes, and she nodded, giving a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "The police can reach us if they have more questions. Let me just say goodbye to the principal and the board."

He nodded, slipping his hand into hers as he followed her to the other end of the library. "We're going to go home, but I can be reached to help find out what happened to the money," Marta said to Mrs. Hawthorne and Ms. Larson who had been talking quietly.

"You can't just go," Mrs. Cooper said, walking up to them and looking between them and Officers Perez and Hatcher across the room. "We have the culprit. You can't just let her go," she said, calling to the Officers.

"Ma'am, we don't have enough evidence to arrest anyone at this time. You're all free to go," Officer Perez said, walking over to the group.

While the Secretary, Sara Townsend, and the President, Nicole Hawthorne, weren't saying anything, Benoit could tell from the looks in their eyes that they agreed with Mrs. Cooper, they were just more discreet about it.

Ignoring Mrs. Cooper’s barbs, Marta bid them all goodbye and then she and Benoit walked out of the school.

"How did all this happen?" he asked once they were outside.

Marta shook her head. “Coach Nelson found me this morning, because one of his players came to practice with a pair of really expensive, dangly earrings that she couldn’t play soccer in, and asked if I would put them in the safe in the principal’s office. I did and finished my paperwork. Once practice was over, I went back to get the earrings so I could return them, and that’s when I saw the money was missing. I wasn’t near the office the whole time, anyone could have gotten in, except I don’t know who would have had a key and the safe code.”

"Well, we will just have to get to the bottom of this one," he said, pulling her in for a hug. She sagged against him as he gently rubbed her back, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I have to go get the kids, unless you'd rather be the one pick them up, and see your mom."

"Why don't we both go," she said, pulling back to look up at him. The exhaustion from earlier was still in her gaze, but they now also held a familiar determination. They would be able to solve this. "They can play a little longer at my mom's."

He nodded and after a few more moments of being in each other's embrace, they got into their cars and drove off. On the drive over, Benoit was already working through the details of the case, which granted, weren't many at this point. He knew Marta was innocent, but the board clearly thought the opposite. Was someone trying to frame Marta, or did the board just not trust her?

He could imagine a few reasons why those women wouldn't like Marta, but he couldn't really fathom distrusting one of the kindest and most generous people he knew.

He pulled up outside Elena's house a little while later, his mind still working, but with little progress. They would have to start working the case as soon as they got home. They were between cases at the moment, so they would have time to start investigating. He didn’t yet know what had happened, but the chase had begun.

* * *

“Okay, thank you, I understand,” Benoit said, hanging up the phone later that afternoon with a sigh, as Marta walked into the room, giving him a curious look. “I just spoke with Lieutenant Elliott. They’re not supposed to tell either of us anything because you’re a suspect.”

“That’s it then? We just have to wait?” Marta asked, sitting next to him on the couch.

Benoit shook his head. “We’re not working with the police, but we can still do our own investigation. Elliott encouraged it, actually. Unofficially of course.”

“It might be best if you worked this one alone,” she said, letting out a sigh. “I am one of the main suspects, it might hinder the investigation if I’m seen working it.”

Benoit rubbed a hand over his face. “I hate it, but you might be right. You would be okay with that?”

Marta let out a humorless laugh. “I hate it too, but I want this solved, quickly. This is our best option.”

“Okay, I’ll go talk to the other board members tomorrow, and I’ll see about getting a look at the school’s security footage.”

She leaned further into him and laid her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her.

“I will find out who did this,” he said softly. “This will all be over soon.” He could feel her nod against him, as they lapsed into silence. He never thought he would again see the day where he would need to prove Marta’s innocence, but he had done it once, and he would do it again.

* * *

Benoit pulled up to Sara Townsend’s house mid morning on Sunday. Being married to the person the whole board suspected would make these interviews more difficult, but wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

As he got out of his car and walked up to the front door, he looked around at the house. It was a lovely house, large, with bright colored flowers in several different beds out front.

He knocked firmly on the door and took a step back.

“Mr. Blanc?” Mrs. Townsend said as she answered the door. “How can I help you?” She looked confused as to why he was there, but kept her tone polite.

“You know I am a private detective, and I was hoping I could ask a few questions about the missing money, if you have some time now?” he asked, keeping his expression polite.

Mrs. Townsend looked like she would like nothing better than to shut the door in his face, but that her conscience wouldn’t let her, so she opened the door wide for him to come in.

“You have a lovely home,” he said as he followed her into the dining room.

“Thank you,” she said, as she directed him to sit in the dining room chair across from her. “What kind of questions do you have?”

“Where were you yesterday morning and afternoon?” he asked, falling easily into investigator mode.

“The children and I were out, doing some clothes shopping. We were out all morning. We had just returned home when I got Marta’s call.”

“And can anyone other than your children confirm your whereabouts?”

She nodded. “I have my receipts from the stores,” she said, getting up to look through her purse. She came back with a stack of receipts and handed them to Benoit. “The times should be on these.”

He looked through the receipts, and they did confirm that she had been out shopping during that time. Or at least, that someone had. But she was not his main suspect, and he didn’t think she was lying to him.

“Do you know anyone who might have taken the money or might have had reason to take the money?” Benoit asked as he handed the receipts back.

Mrs. Townsend hesitated for a moment, before shaking her head and he was sure she wanted to name Marta, but was too well mannered to actually say her name. “I can’t think of why anyone would do this to our fundraising money.”

“Could anyone have gotten the principal’s office key or safe code from you? You didn’t write it down anywhere?”

She shook her head again. “No, I keep the key on my keys, which I usually have in my purse and the safe code I just memorized. I guess my husband could have taken the key if he wanted, but he was at work all yesterday morning, and my kids wouldn’t do more than just play with the keys.”

Benoit nodded. This was all lining up with what he had already suspected. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Townsend. I appreciate it. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

She saw him to the door in silence, clearly holding back what she really wanted to say. “Have a good day, Mr. Blanc.”

He smiled politely at her, keeping his own opinions to himself. “You as well.” With that, he walked back to his car. Geographically, it made most sense to visit Brittany Cooper next, and end with Nicole Hawthorne.

He reached the Cooper house not much later, and she opened the door before he was even halfway up her walk.

“Mr. Blanc,” she said, her voice steely.

“Mrs. Cooper, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions. Won’t take more than a few minutes,” he said, pasting on his most disarming smile.

She shook her head, her arms folded. “Sara texted me to let me know you’d be on your way. I don’t want to talk to you. I have nothing to say, and frankly, I think it’s horrible that you’re trying to clear Marta’s name when she obviously took the money.”

Benoit sighed. “Marta is innocent, Mrs. Cooper. I’m not sure why you detest her so much, but she is not your enemy.”

“I won’t answer your questions,” she repeated, before walking back into the house and shutting the door firmly behind her.

Well, that decided that. He walked back to his car. It wasn’t the first time a suspect had refused to talk to him, but she had been more vehement than most. He would just have to go on without her statement.

His last stop wasn’t quite as close to the Cooper residence, so it took a little longer, and he hoped he would have a better reception here.

Nicole Hawthorne answered the door quickly, her expression completely neutral.

“Mrs. Hawthorne,” he began, taking it as a win that she wasn’t refusing to talk to him. Not that he had expected it from her, but there was always a chance. “I assume you know why I’m here. I would just like to ask a few short questions.”

“Of course,” she said, although her tone disagreed with her words. “Come in.”

He stepped inside, and sat in one of the arm chairs across from the front room couch when she gestured for him to sit. He looked around as she got settled. It was a nice house, although he noticed some wear and tear in the corners he wouldn’t have expected. Mrs. Hawthorne cleared her throat as he was looking around and he turned his attention back to her with a polite smile.

“This won’t take long,” he assured her as she sat across from him. “Where were you yesterday morning and afternoon?”

“I was home with the whole family all morning. We got up early, made breakfast and just spent time together. I didn’t leave the house until Marta called to tell us about the money.”

Benoit nodded. There was something a little rehearsed about her answers, but that could be because Mrs. Townsend had warned her and possibly told her what questions he was going to ask. He couldn’t rule out that she was telling the truth. “Do you know anyone who might have taken the money or might have had reason to take the money?”

She shook her head. “I honestly didn’t think it was possible for something like this to happen at our school. It’s making me a little distrustful of others to be honest.”

A non answer. Benoit leaned forward. “And you can’t think of anyone who you think might have done it?”

Just like with Mrs. Townsend, he could see that she was thinking about Marta, but wouldn’t say that to him. She just shook her head again. “No, I can’t think of anyone.”

He stood. “Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

She nodded politely as he left. He didn’t feel like he was much closer to solving this case, but he would let the information percolate and follow the arc of the truth.

“How did your questioning go?” Marta asked as he walked in the front door. She was holding Daphne on her hip and gave him a quick kiss after he shut the door behind him.

He removed his shoes and coat and gave her a shrug. “Both Mrs. Townsend and Mrs. Hawthorne have alibis and Mrs. Cooper refused to even talk to me.”

Marta’s eyes widened. “She did what?”

He nodded. “Mrs. Townsend had texted her to let her know I was coming. I wasn’t even completely up the walk and she opened the door and told me I was terrible for trying to clear your name when you did it and refused to answer my questions.”

“Do you think she wasn’t talking to you because she has something to hide?”

“She certainly seems guilty,” he said, with a thoughtful look. “But I don’t know, there’s something we’re still missing.”

“You’ll find it, I’m sure,” she said, taking his hand as they walked into the living room, and sat down on the couch.

“I will, and hopefully soon,” he said, just wanting this to be over. Usually he thrilled in the chase, but knowing that so many thought Marta was guilty… He didn’t want that. “At least we know they can’t actually charge you with anything.”

Marta nodded. “I know, I’m not worried about that. I just want the money back. The children worked really hard for it.”

Benoit smiled. “You and your kind heart,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Why can’t they see that?”

She looked up at him, pain in her eyes, the pain of lived experience. “Some people can only see the worst in people, can only expect bad behavior.”

“When did you get so wise?” he asked, with a wan smile.

She shrugged, looking up at him impishly. “Oh, I’ve always been this wise.”

He laughed, and wrapped an arm around her. “You have been as long as I’ve known you.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “We’ll get through this,” she said, her voice a low murmur.

He nodded. “We will.”

* * *

They had to wait until Monday to go over the video footage, and Benoit hoped that would help them catch the thief without too much more trouble. He had been over the information they already had, as well as theories regarding the other members of the board with Marta several times already, and he was ready to gather new information.

“Thank you for letting us view this footage, Ms. Larson,” Benoit said as he stood in front of the security screens with her and the school’s security officer.

Ms. Larson nodded. “Of course, Mr. Blanc. I want this solved as quickly as possible, and can use as many eyes on it as we can get.”

“Okay, let me just pull up the footage from that day,” the security officer, Mary Knight said, clicking through files. After a moment, she frowned, letting out a confused noise. “We may have a problem.”

“What is it?” Ms. Larson asked.

“The main lobby footage from that day is gone. I have the other footage from Saturday from the other cameras, but nothing that directly shows your office, where the safe is.”

“Can you get them back?” Benoit asked, stepping closer to look at the monitors.

Mary shook her head. “No, they’re completely gone. But we should be able to see who goes into the lobby area and may be able to rule some people out.”

Ms. Larson let out a sigh. “That will have to be enough.”

“Is there any chance that they’re missing due to a technical glitch?” Benoit asked, feeling he already knew the answer to the question.

“No, if it were a technical issue, we would see more missing. This is too targeted. Someone deleted them, and before you ask, I can’t see who did it. But I’ll pull up the other footage to see who was going in and out of the area.”

They watched through the footage for several minutes and Benoit made note in his head of who he recognized and asked the principal about a few people he didn’t. There had been soccer and orchestra practices going on that morning and several people walked through the lobby.

“Wait, stop,” he said, when a young girl who looked to be Sofia’s age walked across the screen. He leaned forward to get a better look. “Is that Harper Hawthorne?” He recognized her from volunteering in Sofia’s classroom and had noticed a certain animosity between the two girls.

Ms. Larson nodded. “That’s her.”

“Hmmm…” he said, watching as Mary continued the footage. That was interesting.

“What is it?” Ms. Larson asked, looking confused.

“Oh, nothing, just surprised to see her.” he said, with a wave of his hand.

Ms. Larson didn’t look completely convinced, but let it go.

They watched the rest of the footage, but Benoit’s mind was already spinning. He needed to revisit the Hawthornes.

As he drove up to the Hawthorne house later that afternoon, he wondered as to his reception. Mrs. Hawthorne had been chilly the last time, and like she might be hiding something. He knew now that his instinct was right.

“Mr. Blanc, what are you doing here?” she asked as she opened the door after his knock.

“I was actually just hoping to talk to Harper. I looked at the footage from the school and she was there that day. She might have seen something.” He kept his gaze on hers firm, but played up his accent a little.

She opened the door with some hesitation, but stepped back to let him enter. “I had forgotten about that the last time you were here, but I’ll go get her. Please take a seat.”

He sat down in the same chair as last time and waited for Mrs. Hawthorne to return with Harper.

“You’re Sofia’s dad.”

Benoit turned to see Mrs. Hawthorne and Harper walking into the room. “That’s right, she’s in your class, right?”

Harper nodded as she took a seat on the couch next to her mom.

“I just have a couple of questions to ask, Harper, if that’s alright.”

Harper looked up at her mom who nodded before turning back to Benoit. “Okay.”

“Why were you at the school on Saturday? For soccer or orchestra practice?”

Harper looked back up at her mom before shaking her head. “No, I was there for singing lessons.”

“Ah,” Benoit said, part of the picture becoming a little clearer. “Do you usually have your singing lessons at the school?”

Harper shook her head again. “No, but my teacher wanted me to sing on the stage at school.”

“That makes sense,” he said with a smile. “While you were at the school, did you see anything suspicious? Maybe someone going into the principal’s office?”

“I didn’t see anything but my friend said Mrs. Blanc stole the money and took some girl’s new sparkly, pink earrings.”

Benoit's smile was tight and polite and didn’t meet his eyes. “Was your friend on the soccer team?” he asked.

Harper shook her head.

“Do you remember anything else about that day, Harper?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Harper shook her head. “I just had my lesson and then I left.”

“Mr. Blanc, I think it’s time you left,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, her tone brooking no argument.

He nodded, and stood. “Thank you again for your time, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“There will be a general PTA meeting Wednesday. Would you tell Marta?” she said as they walked to the door.

He turned to her, a false smile pasted on his face. “I will do that,” he said as he walked out of the Hawthorne’s house.

A previously unscheduled PTA meeting in two days. No doubt it had to do with the missing money. Well, he and Marta would just have to prepare.

* * *

At the far end of the library, was a hexagonal recessed area, affectionately called the story pit, with steps for students to read on. For PTA meetings, it was where the parents sat, while the board sat at a table in the middle of the pit.

Benoit dropped the children off at the childcare area, and chose a seat at the top of the steps, within eyesight of where Marta sat with the rest of the board. There was a clear divide between her and the three other women, who were all completely ignoring her. He glanced at the police officers who were standing away from the story pit. They weren’t immediately visible, but would be on hand.

Mrs. Hawthorne called the meeting to order, and after going over the minutes and old business, opened up the floor for new business and questions.

A woman sitting across from Benoit raised her hand.

“Yes, Alexa?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked.

“What’s being done about the missing fundraiser money? Has a culprit been found?”

Mrs. Hawthorne nodded. “We do have some information on that actually--”

“Excuse me,” Benoit called, raising his hand.

“Mr. Blanc,” she said, clearly not pleased at being interrupted. “What is it?”

“Before you begin, I have something I’d like to say, Mrs. Hawthorne,” he said, getting to his feet.

“I’m not sure now is the time--” she began, before Benoit, who was walking down into the pit, waved her off.

“No, I think now is the perfect time,” he said, facing her with a sharp smile. “If you would indulge me, I would like to explain what happened.” He turned to Marta. “Unless you’d like to do the honors?”

Marta shook her head. “I’d never want to take this away from you, honey,” she said, a small smile slipping out.

“This wasn’t a particularly tricky case, certainly not a donut,” he said, turning to flash Marta a smile, who laughed quietly in response. “But there was one question that bothered me from the beginning.”

“Mr. Blanc, really--” Mrs. Cooper began, sounding irritated.

Benoit kept speaking, cutting her off. “Why frame Marta? Aside from needing a culprit, there seemed to be something personal about this, some need to get _back_ at her. But what was her sin? Could you tell us, Mrs. Hawthorne?” he asked, turning to face her.

Mrs. Hawthorne looked around, shock playing on her features. “I don’t know why I would know.”

“You don’t? Strange, but we’ll get to that,” he said, turning his back to her to look at the gathered parents. “I’ll tell you the motive, and it all comes back to a little play called _Hamilton._ The school put on _Hamilton Jr_ last spring, which, aside from being completely inappropriate for the school's racial demographic, was a big hit, and auditions were tense.”

Benoit turned back to Mrs. Hawthorne. “Your daughter, Harper, tried out for the part of Eliza Hamilton neé Schuyler, and lost the role to our daughter, Sofia.”

“Are you saying I stole $15,000 because your daughter got a part mine didn’t?” she asked, leaning back in her chair, her arms crossed.

Benoit shook his head. “You’re right, that’s not the whole picture. The other piece of the puzzle is that your family has not been doing so well on the financial side of things. You want people to think everything is fine, by keeping the outside trappings up to date, but you’ve lost quite a bit of money.”

He began circling the table, his focus on her. “That accounts for the motive, but how did you pull it off? We have camera footage around the front lobby area, but the actual lobby and the principal’s office footage was deleted. We could tell by the other footage that you weren’t at the school at all that day, until Marta called you about the missing money.”

“I wasn’t there, so how could I have stolen it?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked, sounding exasperated.

“Because you had help,” he said, stopping in front of her. “You had your daughter steal it for you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Benoit pressed on. “The school was busy, as it usually is on Saturdays, what with both the soccer practice and the orchestra practice going on in different parts of the school. But neither of those reasons are why your daughter was there.”

He turned back to the group. “You see, Harper had begun taking private singing lessons to prepare for the new spring play, _Wicked Jr_ , so that this time, she wouldn’t be beat out for a lead role. That day’s lessons were taking place in the choir auditorium so that Harper could practice on the stage in the performance space.”

“You just said you have no proof about any of it.” Mrs. Hawthorne protested from behind him.

He turned to look at her and tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You’re right. Until I spoke to your daughter, I wasn’t sure who had stolen the money. Marta had put a pair of earrings into the safe and opened it again to retrieve them after soccer practice. This was common knowledge. But not many saw the earrings or knew what they looked like, aside from being inappropriate for soccer.

“But, when I spoke to your daughter, she mentioned that the earrings were sparkly and _pink._ Sparkly I could see as a guess, lots of earrings are sparkly, but how would she know what color they were unless she had opened the safe and seen them?

“You enlisted your nine year old daughter to steal thousands of dollars that you needed to pay off debts. It probably wasn’t enough, but it was a start. And you targeted my wife, “ he said, pointing a finger at her, “just to get back at her and our daughter.”

“It’s not what you think,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, looking panicked. “Harper has a problem with stealing. We’ve been trying to get her help, but it’s only gotten worse.”

“Mom?”

Everyone’s heads turned to see Harper standing several feet away from the story pit, looking at her mother with confusion and betrayal in her eyes.

“What are you doing here, Harper?” Mrs. Hawthorne asked, eyes wide.

“I was just going to the bathroom,” Harper said, pointing to the bathrooms at the far end of the room. Her tone turned disbelieving. “You said if I took the money, we’d be able to make sure I got the part. You said I had to help you so you could help me.”

Benoit shook his head sadly, glancing between mother and daughter. “You gave your daughter the key and the safe code and had her steal the money for you, teaching her in the process that dishonesty and meanness are the way to solve your problems.”

Mrs. Hawthorne looked around as if looking for an ally, her mouth open in distress. “We needed the money--” she broke off. “No one was supposed to find out.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” Benoit said, sliding his hands into his pockets. He looked up to nod to the two police officers. They walked down into the pit and pulled Mrs. Hawthorne away, reading her her rights as they did so.

The crowd had begun talking amongst themselves as soon as Mrs. Hawthorne had confessed, and Benoit moved down the table to stand in front of Marta.

“Well done,” she said, smiling up at him, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“It would have been more satisfying if she hadn’t brought the daughter into it,” Benoit said, with a shake of his head.

“I can’t imagine doing anything like that,” Marta said, looking pained. “How could you do that to your own child?”

“Not everyone has your kind heart, darling,” he said, moving to stand beside her. “Do you think the meeting is adjourned at this point?”

Mrs. Townsend turned to Marta. “I think if you wanted to slip away, you could,” she said, her voice low. “I’m sorry I ever thought it could be you, Marta.”

Marta shook her head. “It’s fine, I understand.”

Benoit didn’t, but he kept his opinions to himself.

Mrs. Townsend turned to Benoit, looking curious. “I thought you were the kind of PI who trailed people to take pictures of affairs.”

“Not quite,” he said, he said with an amused smile.

She shook her head and turned her attention to Mrs. Cooper.

Benoit held out his hand to Marta. “Shall we?”

Marta stood and grabbed her coat and purse. Stepping in closer to him, she took his hand. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
